


wearing crocs to a wedding

by LostInAdmiration



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, everyones happy as it should be, its just real fuckin sappy dude idk what to tell you, surprise wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24463648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostInAdmiration/pseuds/LostInAdmiration
Summary: Eddie was smiling. Half exasperated, half fond, his fingers curled around Richie’s wrist and eyes shining.“You haven’t given me an answer yet, dipshit.”“I haven’t-?” Richie spluttered, then sobbed out a laugh. “What the fuck, did you think I’d say no to my dream boy asking me to marry him?”Eddie made a face. “Dreamboy?”“Dream man. My dream in general, whatever. Of course I wanna marry you, holy shit.”
Relationships: (if u squint they're v background), Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 24
Kudos: 264





	wearing crocs to a wedding

**Author's Note:**

> wanted to write something sappy and just plain nice, so this happened. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> hope you like it!

Time was moving syrupy slow, all soft around the edges and hazy with warmth. Now that the initial tornado of excitement had passed through, the electric buzz that came with all of the Losers finally reuniting had settled down to a low hum as everyone found their places with each other again. It had been too long this time, almost eight months of not being able to get everyone in the same room at once, plans abandoned with promises of a next time that took forever to organise. Richie had been guilty of cancelling more than once, with interviews and meetings and tour plans dragging him in all different directions, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t missed all of his friends so much that it ached.

Now they’d finally gotten together - in Atlanta, this time, since Patty was far too pregnant to travel now - Richie could let his friend’s presences wash over him, propped up against the wall of the Urises backyard. Patty and Eddie were sitting in chairs to the right of him with Stan cross legged at their feet, leaning against Eddie’s legs and drawing patterns across Patty’s forearm as they talked. Bev, Ben, Bill, and Mike were all sprawled out on the grass together, tangled in a heap, and Richie felt the muscles in his shoulders relax as he listened to their bright laughter and low voices. He always felt so packed full of love whenever he was around the Losers, like a stomach ache after too much good food - almost uncomfortably content. 

The sun had set but its heat was still lingering, radiating off of the ground and fighting the chill of the night. There were fairy lights hung up around the fencing that were glowing dimly, all pale yellow and shaped like stars.

It had been almost two years to the day that Richie had gotten Mike’s phone call, and he still remembered how it had felt like his world had crumbled to pieces underneath his feet. Everything before the phone call was like another lifetime to him now; a whole other universe. He had been so miserable and so lonely but had never really realised it, because he never allowed himself to. He didn’t know what being loved - really, truly loved - was like, so he’d never had a chance to wish for it. 

Richie really had no idea what he'd been missing. He knew what love was now, and he always felt like his best self when he got to be surrounded by the people who let him know exactly how loved he was.

He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost all of this now that he knew how good his life could be.

Richie didn't realise that Eddie had appeared beside him until he bumped their shoulders together, grinning wide when Richie turned to look at him. 

“Hey. What are you doing standing over here on your own?”

Richie grinned back. “Ah you know me, Eds, I’m a wallflower at heart.”

Eddie snorted, shaking his head, and Richie kept on grinning. He’d had Eddie back in his life for two years, lived with him for one, and had been in love with him for a lifetime, but Eddie Kaspbrak still made Richie feel stupidly fucking giddy whenever he so much as looked at him.

“It’s good to be back with everyone again, huh?” Eddie asked softly. He looked just as loose limbed and happy as Richie felt as they both leaned into each other and looked out at their friends. 

Richie sighed loudly. “Sure is,” he said, then elbowed Eddie in his side. “We’ll be _uncles_ next time we all meet up like this, can you believe it?”

Eddie’s face went through a complicated range of emotions, scrunching up his nose and making a weird noise between a grunt and a squeak before finally settling on a wobbly smile. 

“That’s still so fucking weird," he admitted. 

Richie laughed and nodded, ducking down to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead to get rid of the last of his frown. 

“We’re getting a _mini Stan_ ,” Richie gushed, delighted. Seeing how Stan practically shone with happiness now made Richie’s heart squeeze whenever he looked at him. “Should we buy them a tiny sweater vest so they can match their old man?” he asked, making Eddie snigger.

Richie shut his eyes and tipped his head back, the exhaustion of travelling finally hitting him. He’d been awake for fifteen straight hours because he’d been too wired to sleep the night before, and despite flying so often for work he’d never found a comfortable way to sleep on planes. He opened one eye when Eddie started to fidget in the silence, tapping his foot in a jerky rhythm and biting at his thumbnail, eyes unfocused.

“Everything okay, Spaghetti?” Richie asked gently. “Is your back fucking with you again? Do you need to sit down?” Eddie had stubbornly spent most of the day without his cane, and though Richie knew he could cope without it most days now, the way his shoulders were starting to hunch over made Richie wish he’d have brought it from their hotel just in case. 

“I’m fine, Rich, I told you,” Eddie replied, exasperated. He knew his limits now - knew from experience when in the first few weeks after being discharged from hospital he’d pushed too hard too soon out of stubbornness and had paid for it - that his body needed him to be a lot kinder to himself.

“You just look a little-” Richie started, then made an aborted gesture with his hands. “Out of it.”

Eddie blinked a few times, eyes wide, then tried to rearrange his face into what Richie supposed was meant to be a smile but looked more like he was constipated.

“Says the guy stood in the corner on his own like he got rejected on his prom night.”

Richie clutched at his heart, wincing. “ _Ouch_ , Eddie. You know prom is a sensitive subject for me.”

“What? No I don't. Prom was fine. You, Stan, and Ben all decided to go stag and got drunk on the bourbon you stole from your pops.”

Richie made a face. He’d always wondered before he got his memories back why whiskey made his stomach turn violently even though he never remembered drinking it. “Prom was the worst,” he insisted. “Because I had to watch you dance with your date all night.”

He remembered being so irrationally angry about it and not being able to explain why when Ben had asked. Richie had spun some shit about being mad that Eddie hadn’t kept to their pact of going as a group, but he hadn’t been mad at Bill or Bev for going with dates, just Eddie. He’d watched Eddie from the corner all night, something ugly coiling in his gut whenever he watched him laugh, his throat constricting painfully when Eddie’s nervous, cautious hands curled around the girl’s shoulders as they awkwardly swayed to the music. 

“It wasn’t _all_ night,” Eddie scoffed. “I blew her off half an hour in to hang with you guys instead.”

“You broke my fragile little heart, Eds,” Richie pushed. “I didn’t even get to dance with you.”

“That’s because you spent most of the night spewing your guts up in the parking lot,” Eddie muttered. 

Richie sniffed, sticking his chin in the air. “I still figure you owe me a dance, anyway,” he said, and almost laughed out loud when his palms started to sweat reflexively like he was a pathetic teenager again, desperate just to hold someone’s hand.

“You and I both know that you’re a danger to yourself and others whenever you try to dance,” Eddie shot back easily, and Richie chuckled, tipping his head back to the wall again.

“I’d definitely break a toe or ten,” he agreed, lilting his voice up and fluttering his eyelashes. “But all the name of love.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and followed Richie’s lead, leaning back against the wall. The sun had barely set, with dusty blues and deep oranges still clinging to the horizon, and Richie could only count a handful of stars that had managed to shine through the dim light. He heard Bev’s laugh, loud and crowing from where she was sitting on the grass, and he smiled to himself. He loved hearing her ridiculous laugh in its full glory instead of distorted by phone speakers, and he hated that they only had a few days together before they all had to leave again. Richie planned to make Bev laugh as often as possible to make up for it.

There were a few more moments of quiet before Eddie started to fidget again. 

Richie turned to look at him and Eddie froze, looking weirdly guilty. “Seriously, dude. Do you have ants in your pants or something?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Eddie crossed his arms across his chest and scowled, avoiding Richie’s stare. 

“Sorry that I can’t take your word for it when you’re acting like you’ve chugged six cups of coffee.” Richie reached out, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s waist to pull him closer, and Eddie went easily with a sigh. The tension was back in Eddie’s body, and Richie figured it made sense, since it was the first time they’d really gotten a chance to breathe in a long time. Richie had just been so caught up in the happiness of the Loser’s reunion that he hadn’t realised Eddie might not feel as calm as he did.

Eddie had been slowly but surely unrooting every bit of his old life for the past two years, pulling away from his wife and his mother and all the lies he’d been told that had made him into a shell of himself. He’d told Richie plenty of times that he didn’t regret all that change for a second, but now it was just the two of them and a whole new life to make together, Richie couldn’t help but wonder if Eddie really thought it was worth it.

Something ugly started to coil up in Richie’s gut and he swallowed it down. Eddie knew what he was doing, he didn’t need Richie to dictate anything for him just because his self esteem was taking a temporary nose dive.

When Eddie didn’t say anything more Richie prodded him in the ribs, making him yelp and shove him away. “We can go back to the hotel early if you’re tired? Or hungry? Whatever you need, I'll get for you, Eds. Even if it’s like, an ancient artefact that holds the key to eternal happiness or something. Might take me a hot minute, but-”

Eddie interrupted by flicking Richie on the nose.

“I’m _fine_ , Rich. More than fine, I promise.”

Richie leaned down to squint at Eddie, poking at his ribs again. “I might believe you if you weren’t acting so squirmy.”

“You’re so annoying,” Eddie complained, rubbing at his face with his hands. “It’s just- it’s the bugs, alright? They’re fucking everywhere.”

Richie hummed and looped his other arm around Eddie’s waist so that he was bracketing him against the wall, and Eddie lifted one hand up to settle it on Richie’s shoulder in turn.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, and Eddie scoffed.

“I’m an _excellent_ liar, asshole.”

“Nope, you can’t lie to me. Your eyes do a thing.”

“My _eyes_ do a thing?” Eddie echoed incredulously. 

“Uh huh,” Richie held up one hand in front of Eddie’s face and wiggled his finger. “They move from side to side like this when you’re bullshitting me.”

“You’re making that up,” Eddie grumbled, but ducked his head so that Richie couldn’t see his face, and Richie laughed loudly. 

“Am not. I can read you like a book, sweetheart. I know everything about you,” Richie crooned, leaning forward to nudge at Eddie’s cheek with his nose. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side so he could kiss Richie, his free hand moving to Richie’s hip and eyes slipping shut with a sigh.

Someone behind them whistled loudly but Richie ignored them, creeping one hand up Eddie’s back and letting himself get lost for a little while. He knew Eddie’s tells from when they were kids and Eddie had to lie to his mother often just so she’d let him out of the house, but also he knew that Eddie didn’t lie unless he needed to so he let it go, cupping Eddie’s jaw with his other hand and moving his head so that he could deepen the kiss.

Eventually Eddie squeezed Richie’s elbow, then slowly ran his fingers down Richie’s arm until he reached his hand, pulling it away from his own hip. 

They broke apart, Richie taking a step back so he could see Eddie better, his thumb on Eddie’s cheek rubbing back and forth just under his eye. 

Eddie’s mouth twisted up into a small smile and he leaned into the touch. “Hey,” he said, voice soft as he placed something cold in Richie’s palm. “Marry me?” 

Richie’s fingers curled around the ring on instinct, trapping Eddie fingers with it. He was only half certain he wasn’t having a stroke.

“I- what?”

“I love you. Marry me,” Eddie said again. His gaze was steady now, never leaving Richie’s face.

Richie looked down dumbly to his hand, then back up to Eddie, his heart rabbiting frantically in his chest. “How did you have time to buy a ring in the middle of a house move and job hunting and-” he uncurled his fingers and looked down at the ring, which was silver with a deep blue strip running through the middle of it. “ _Shit_ , Eddie, this is gorgeous. What the hell? How did you even know my ring size? _I_ don’t even know it. How do you figure out a ring size? Did you measure my finger while I was sleeping or something?” 

“Rich.”

Richie could feel panic thrumming through his body, and words kept spilling out of his mouth without his permission, sentences stumbling over each other in their rush to get out. “It’s not regular measurements right? It’s in like, fractions or some shit. But I guess if you get it wrong you can just resize it, I think. Or I could wear it on a chain around my neck so I don’t lose it when I take it off.”

“ _Richie._ ” Eddie’s voice was sharp enough this time to cut through the buzzing going on in Richie’s head. He gave his elbow another squeeze, stepping in closer again, and Richie forced himself to breathe.

“I don’t - huh?”

Eddie was smiling. Half exasperated, half fond, his fingers curled around Richie’s wrist and eyes shining.

“You haven’t given me an answer yet, dipshit.” 

“I haven’t-?” Richie spluttered, then sobbed out a laugh. “What the fuck, did you think I’d say no to my dream boy asking me to marry him?”

Eddie made a face. “Dream _boy_?” 

“Dream man. My dream in general, whatever. Of course I wanna marry you, holy shit.” 

Richie crowded Eddie back up against the wall and pressed kisses all over his face, ring still held tight in one hand as Eddie laughed and shoved Richie away before quickly changing his mind, pulling him back again and hugging him tight. 

Richie tucked his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, pressing a kiss there too, for good measure. His heart was still hammering wildly and all he could hear were alarm bells in his head that just sounded a lot like Eddie’s name on repeat. The ring was digging into his palm from how tight he was holding it, and he was definitely half a second away from crying, so he shut his eyes and breathed Eddie in.

When Eddie spoke, it rumbled through Richie’s chest. “That’s a relief,” he said lightly, “or else paying for Mike to get ordained would have been a waste of my time.”

The alarms in Richie’s head came to a screeching stop as he tried to make sense of what Eddie was saying, his whole body buzzing like it was filled with static. He suddenly, stupidly remembered making fun of Eddie for dressing up just to go to Stan’s house earlier, and how severely underdressed he’d felt when he noticed his friends had all dressed up for no reason too. 

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah,” Eddie rubbed Richie’s arm, soothing him like he was afraid Richie was about to bolt. Richie found Eddie’s hand with his free one and held on.

“You didn’t mean _marry me_ as like, a vague concept in the future.”

It wasn’t exactly a question, but Eddie shook his head anyway. “Nope.”

“You meant marry you right now?”

“Yep.”

Richie felt like he’d been punched in the chest. “Holy shit.”

“Is that okay?” Eddie asked, eyebrows knitting together. “I mean, it’s like trying to herd cats trying to get all eight of us in one place at a time so I thought I’d seize the opportunity.” He was back to fidgeting, and suddenly all of his nervous energy made a lot more sense. 

“I haven’t even showered today,” Richie managed to choke out nonsensically. Eddie knew he hadn’t because they shared a hotel room and Eddie had given him shit for it until Richie threatened to not shower for a whole week, just to prove a point. 

“That’s okay.”

“I’m wearing _crocs_ , Eddie,” Richie whined. He wasn’t sure why his mouth seemed to be trying its hardest to put Eddie off marrying him, when all he wanted to _do_ was marry Eddie, now he knew it was an option.

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely changing out of those. I have to draw the line somewhere,” Eddie was grinning, his smile big and beautiful and Richie laughed until it turned into hiccupping sobs, his eyes stinging.

“Aren't you supposed to get on your knees to propose?” He managed to ask, pushing his glasses up so he could dig his knuckles into his eyes.

Eddie slapped Richie’s hand away and replaced them with his own, smoothing his thumbs gently under Richie’s eyes. “I’m not fucking kneeling down, I’ll never get back up again.”

Richie's face stretched into a grin. “You seem to cope just fine all the other times you’ve gotten on your knees,” he drawled, leering. 

Eddie had to bite his cheek to stop himself laughing as he punched Richie in the arm.

“Shut the fuck up. Do you wanna marry me or not?”

That punched the air out of Richie all over again. “God, yeah.”

Eddie gently uncurled Richie’s fingers and took the ring out of his hand, and Richie made a small noise of protest.

“Hey, that’s mine.” The ring looked like it was glowing yellow under the the fairy lights covering the garden, but the centre of it was stark blue in contrast, looking like it was rippling as Eddie twisted it between his fingers. 

“Not yet,” Eddie smirked, putting the ring in his pocket. “I have to get you pronounced as my husband first.”

Richie's heart did a weird skipping jump and he drooped forward, letting his forehead rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“ _Husband_. Oh, Jesus,” he wheezed out, and he heard Eddie snigger. “That sounds pretty good.”

“Fuck yeah it does,” Eddie reached up to rub his hand between Richie’s shoulder blades. “Better than _boyfriend,_ that’s for sure.”

Richie straightened himself back up so he could squint at Eddie, and though he tried to smooth his face out before Richie saw, he managed to catch the way his nose had scrunched up, disgusted.

“Oh, I see. You’re just doing this because you hate calling me your boyfriend.” Richie was grinning so big his face hurt, and his smile grew even wider when Eddie rolled his eyes and groaned.

“It sounds _stupid_ Rich. We’re in our forties.”

It was a conversation they’d had plenty of times. Eddie complaining that boyfriend sounded juvenile, and Richie coming up with increasingly ridiculous terms of endearment, just to hear Eddie laugh. “I told you, lover is there for the taking.”

Eddie made another face. “That makes it sound like we’re having an affair.”

“Partner?”

“We’re not cowboys.”

“Comrades?”

Eddie barked a laugh, the kind that sounded like it had been punched out of him, taking him by surprise. “Jesus Christ, no. Husband is _way_ better.”

Richie only managed a wounded noise that made Eddie laugh again and pull him back into a hug.

There was another sharp whistle behind them, followed by Stan’s voice. “Are we doing this or what?” he called out, trying to sound disinterested and failing completely. “You’ve been proposing _forever._ ”

They broke apart but Eddie stayed close, settling his hand around the base of Richie's spine and staring at him, face suddenly serious.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. His eyes were scanning Richie’s face, looking for the tiniest hint of doubt. Richie was certain he wouldn't find any. “We can plan a proper wedding instead, or go to the registry office when we’re home. We can even go to Vegas, if you want.”

Richie shook his head emphatically and reached out to tug at Eddie’s earlobe, making him scowl. “This is perfect, Eds. Maybe we could go to Vegas for our honeymoon, though?”

“Fuck no. That was a one time offer,” Eddie snapped, but he was smiling despite himself.

Eddie had an almost manic glint in his eye as he turned back to his friends, smile wide and hands shaking ever so slightly when he smoothed out his shirt. He turned back to Richie when he felt his gaze on him and his grin got wider still, his eyebrow quirking up in a silent question as he held his hand out for Richie to take. Eddie _loved_ him, Richie thought a little hysterically. He loved him enough to marry him and want to stay with him for as long as they were able, and Richie felt almost delirious at the thought.

When he finally looked away from Eddie, all of his friends were watching them, all big smiles and that excited energy from the reunion buzzing through them again. 

“How the hell have you all managed to keep this secret?” Richie asked them all as Eddie gave his hand one last squeeze before disappearing into the house. Bev replaced Eddie quickly, taking Richie’s arm and reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. 

“We didn’t tell Bill until this morning,” she said, and Bill made an affronted noise and crossed his arms. 

“I c-can keep a s-s-secret!” He protested.

“You told Ben that Bev was going to propose an _hour_ after she told us her plans,” Mike pointed out, voice nothing but fond. Bill huffed again and muttered something about not knowing it was a secret, face red, and Richie laughed, delighted.

Stan threw a hairbrush at Richie’s head, narrowly missing hitting him square in the face, and stared pointedly at the tangled mop of hair on his head. “I have no idea how you didn’t figure it out. Eddie’s been driving us insane trying to plan this.”

Eddie _had_ been a little twitchier than usual recently, and thinking back Richie could count a handful of times Eddie had nearly thrown his laptop at the wall in a panic when Richie had walked into the room. “What number on the Kaspbrak scale?” Richie asked gleefully.

Ben was, as always, the kindest. “He’s just been a little worried things wouldn’t go to plan-” he started, but Bev interrupted.

“An easy ten. He’s been positively combustible for weeks.”

Richie laughed loudly, feeling it warm his chest. “God, I love him,” he sighed, and then yelped when something was dumped on his head.

“I should fuckin’ hope you do,” came Eddie’s voice from behind him; Richie could hear his smile even though he couldn’t see him. “Put that shirt on, and take those monstrosities off your feet.”

Richie kind of felt like he was stumbling through a dream as he changed into the shirt that’d been given to him, his brain not quite managing to catch up with the whirlwind Eddie had set off inside of him. He had pretty much always known he wanted to marry Eddie, in the same simple way that he knew how he liked his coffee, but it was always something he’d hoped for in an abstract sense, like if he thought about it too much it would pop his new bubble of reality that still seemed so fragile. He’d been so scared of love before, scared of knowing what it was like and then losing it, scared of disappointing the people he loved, scared of love not being enough. He’d never let himself think about it, instead keeping his starry eyed dreams of stage lights and laughing crowds and pushing down the hope of something more, ignoring loneliness that made him feel like only half a person.

He’d loved Eddie anyway, even when he was a child and the enormity of all the love he had terrified him, and though it had taken a little while longer than Richie would have wanted, he finally got to know what it was like to have Eddie love him back. Eddie’s love wasn’t something fragile that needed to be tiptoed around, not a dream Richie couldn’t let himself think about, it was something loud and vibrant and Richie wanted to be engulfed in it all the time.

Eddie asking Richie to marry him was a promise that Richie got to keep that love forever, and that thought was making his head spin.

Bev tapped Richie’s shoulder to bring him back to reality, following his eye-line to look over at Eddie ,too. He was talking to Bill, their heads bowed together as Eddie tried to flatten out his creased shirt some more. 

“You ready to get married?” Bev asked, squeezing Richie’s arm again and then pushing a small yellow flower into the front pocket of his shirt. 

“Born ready, Miss Marsh,” Richie answered automatically, making Bev giggle before she leaned in close to whisper conspiratorially. 

“I gotta be honest, I thought it’d be you who’d propose first.”

“I got as far as buying a ring,” Richie admitted, shrugging. He’d bought it after Eddie had visited LA for the first time, staying for a weekend and making Richie’s apartment feel more like a home than it ever had in all the years he’d been living there. When Richie had dropped Eddie off at the airport, they’d hugged each other goodbye and Eddie had disappeared around the corner, but just as Richie turned to leave he heard Eddie shout his name and then was tackled into another hug as Eddie breathlessly told Richie just how much he loved him.

Richie had driven straight from the airport to a jeweller, and over a year later the ring was still burning a hole in the desk drawer of his office. 

“I was too nervous to ask,” Richie mumbled. Too scared of rejection, of changing things, like if he pushed too hard the world would think he was ungrateful and push back, taking everything away. “He’s always been braver than me.”

“That's bullshit,” Bev said simply, kicking Richie’s shin. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. You got here in the end.”

*

Richie wasn’t sure how they’d decided which of the Losers should get ordained, but they clearly didn’t take into consideration that Mike would cry as much as he did.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Mike choked out. “I’ve practiced this so many times since Eddie asked.”

“He d-did. I c-c-caught him talking t-to himself in the mirror almost every d-day,” Bill said with an affectionate grin. 

More fairy lights had been strung up - pale blue this time and shaped like moons - and Bill and Stan had pinned dozens of polaroids to the apple trees lined up in the yard; some old photos Mike had kept and some new from the past two years of reunions and milestones. The sky was completely dark now, the garden only illuminated by the blue and yellow lights casting long shadows, and everything felt still and soft, like it was a small piece of the universe carved out just for them to have this moment.

Eddie was grinning too. “I thought Richie would be the problem cryer in this situation, not you, Mikey.”

Richie blew a raspberry. “Oh don’t worry, I am literally on a hair trigger right now. We’re gonna be drowning in my tears before the night is up.” He couldn’t swallow down the lump in his throat, and whenever Eddie so much as smiled at him it was making sobs bubble up in his chest. He was almost certain the second anyone uttered the word husband he’d burst into tears.

He told Eddie as much, and then quickly realised his mistake when Eddie leaned in close to him with a sly smile on his face and pressed a kiss just behind Richie’s ear before whispering, “I can’t wait to call you my husband, Rich,” and made him start crying all over again. 

Patty was crying too, and Ben looked dangerously close. 

“Are you all going to be this bad at Ben and Bev’s wedding, too?” Stan asked. He was trying to sound exasperated, but Richie could hear the wobble in his own voice as he pulled Patty into a hug.

“You _better_ cry at our wedding,” Bev shouted. They were all sat on the grass again; Eddie and Richie sat beside each other and their friends flanked them while Mike sat up at the front. Richie had hold of Eddie’s hand and Eddie was rubbing his thumb across Richie’s knuckles methodically, pressing into the knuckle of Richie’s ring finger ever so slightly every time he passed it.

“Pay me thirty dollars and I’ll sob through your whole ceremony,” Richie said, “I’ll even go around to every guest and force them to say how beautiful you are.”

Eddie snorted. “We all know you’ll do that free of charge anyway.”

“Bets on who will cry at Ben and Bev’s wedding first!” Patty called out, giggling, and everyone immediately started shouting over each other.

“Richie. It has to be Richie,” Stan said. Ben, Eddie, and Bill all shouted their agreement. 

Patty patted Ben’s arm. “I vote Ben. He cried talking to me about picking out their centrepieces just last week.”

“My money’s on Mike, he-” Bev started, but Richie interrupted them all.

“Hey fuckfaces, can I tie down _my_ husband first before you all start talking about the next wedding?” he shouted, but he was laughing too hard at them all for it to sound even a little bit threatening. 

“Also,” he added with a sly grin, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “I vote Eddie.”

Eddie had cried when they’d gotten the wedding invite in the mail, along with a picture of Ben and Bev laughing together, Bev with one fist in the air in celebration. Eddie and Bev understood each other in a way that Richie would never fathom, and the pride pouring out of Eddie when they’d called Bev later to congratulate her and Ben had been rolling off of him in waves.

Everyone started arguing again, Eddie scoffing and telling Richie he was full of shit, even though he was desperately trying to hide how red his face had gone. Richie leaned in close to Eddie, resting his head on his shoulder while their friends carried on bickering and laughing around them.

“I see what you mean about the herding cats comment now,” Richie mumbled, and he felt Eddie’s shoulder shake as he laughed. 

“We should have just eloped,” Eddie whispered, letting his head rest on top of Richie’s.

Stan finally cleared his throat, loud but pointed, and everyone fell silent. He was sat right by Richie, one leg stretched out so that his foot was touching Richie’s knee. 

“Everybody shut up so our best friends can marry each other,” he demanded, catching Richie’s eye to smile softly at him.

Richie started to cry first this time, but Mike wasn’t too far behind him.

*

Richie finally got his dance, with his arms wrapped around Eddie's waist and Eddie rubbing at his shoulders, their foreheads pressed together and noses bumping. Their friends were scattered around them dancing together too, surrounded by the little yellow lights and the sound of the music Stan had put on pouring out through the windows of the house and into the yard. 

Richie had definitely stood on Eddie's toes a few times, clumsily stumbling his way through the steps, but Eddie held on tight anyway, sniggering whenever Richie tripped over his own feet. There was a ring on Richie’s finger, and happiness bubbling over inside of him as he hummed along to the song whilst Eddie pulled him closer and tucked his head under Richie’s chin.

“This is _way_ better than prom,” Richie sighed, kissing the top of Eddie’s head and grinning into his hair when he grumbled.

“You can’t compare us getting married to our senior prom Richie, what the fuck?”

Richie laughed, lifting his head to look around for a moment. Mike was dancing with Patty while Stan seemed to be giving Ben some kind of impromptu dancing lesson, and Bev was trying to encourage Bill to breakdance, doubled over laughing at him.

“I mean, the same people are here, eighties music is playing, and I’m pretty sure Bill has been drinking whiskey again. It feels pretty similar to me.”

Eddie pinched Richie’s side with a put upon sigh, but Richie could feel his smile against his throat. 

“I know this wasn’t much,” Eddie said, voice wary. “You’re better at this kind of shit than me. I just - mine and Myra’s wedding was hell. Everyone was staring at me and most of them were people I didn’t even _know_. I didn’t get to decide a single thing about anything that happened that day. I wanted this to be different. Just just me and you and our favourite people.”

Richie hummed and wrapped his arms even tighter around Eddie. They weren’t even bothering to dance anymore, just stood holding on to each other whilst their friends danced around them.

“First of all, if I don’t get to compare this to our prom, you don’t get to compare it to your shitty first marriage,” he started, bending down and biting Eddie’s shoulder to make him laugh.

“Noted.”

“Second of all, everybody knows you’re a hopeless romantic, so stop pretending you’re not.” 

“I’m definitely not. Do you remember when I tried to surprise you with dinner once and gave you food poisoning instead?”

Richie nudged Eddie’s head up so he could kiss his cheek. “It’s the thought that counts, babe.”

“You weren’t saying that when you were puking your guts up,” Eddie muttered. “Is there a point you’re getting to?”

Eddie was threading his fingers through Richie’s hair slowly, his other hand rubbing circles into Richie’s hip, and it was making him lose his train of thought. 

“I don’t- I mean. You know me, Eds. This is perfect. I’m not nearly famous enough to be some douchebag who wants a stupid expensive wedding with ice sculptures and peacocks or some shit.”

Eddie spluttered out another laugh. “Why were ice sculptures and _peacocks_ the first things you thought of?” 

“You need to read more trashy magazines,” Richie grinned. “It’s impressive that you’ve lived in LA for a year and you still know absolutely nothing about celebrity culture.”

“I know from personal experience that celebrities are full of shit, most of the time. Don’t need to read magazines to know that,” Eddie shot back with a sly smile, then he frowned, considering. “Wait, wasn’t Ben talking about buying those dumb turtle ice sculptures he was obsessed with at the wedding fair?”

Both Richie and Eddie collapsed into laughter, leaning into each other and wheezing in between their cackling. Richie felt like a child all over again, like when he and Eddie would have inside jokes that had them both giggling until their stomachs hurt, still laughing whenever they caught each other's eyes hours later even though the punchline had been long forgotten. 

“What’s so funny, you two?” Bev called out. She had her shoes in one hand and was twirling Mike around with the other. Even up on her tiptoes Mike had to duck under her arm as he span.

“That’s a private matter between me and my husband,” Richie shouted back whilst Eddie kept on laughing, his face buried in Richie's chest.

The happiness pouring out of every inch of space surrounding the Losers was warm and filled with sparks that Richie could feel humming through his body. This was everything he never knew he wanted all wrapped up and given to him in the form of a surprise wedding in one of his best friend’s back yards and the boy he’d loved since he was a child putting a ring on his finger and dancing with him even though he stepped on his toes.

Richie’s old life had been an illusion, something he’d built on from fragments of memories, always missing the most important parts. That life had crumbled so easily the second he heard Mike’s voice on the phone was because Richie had been shattered and pieces of himself were lost along with six of the best friends he'd ever had, but he’d finally been given a second chance to get them back and try again.

This second chance felt like something solid and sure, as sure as Eddie’s hands framing his face and rubbing away his tears with his thumb when he cried again, and his friend’s tight hugs when they whispered words of congratulations into his ear. Richie didn’t feel fragile anymore, and his life was one he wanted to live on purpose, even if he tripped over his own feet sometimes.

He told Eddie this as they were sprawled out on the grass, legs tangled together and Eddie’s head on Richie’s chest

“That’s a shitty metaphor,” Eddie mumbled. “You were living your life just fine before.”

“Yeah, but this is so much better,” Richie replied, and Eddie’s dopey smile as he tipped his chin up in a silent request for a kiss made him lose his breath a little.

Eddie’s hand found Richie’s and he spun the ring on Richie’s finger around with his thumb, his body warm and voice low and thick with contentment.

“You’re right,” he mumbled. “This is perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](https://parkshuppy.tumblr.com/) if you'd like!


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